Where Two Ways Met (2 page)

“I know what you mean, Son. Last Sunday he helped pass the communion. He’s one of the elders, you know, and it was his turn, I suppose. Afterward, when he sat up front before they passed the wine, I studied his face. Maybe I shouldn’t’ve, but I had it in mind that you were coming home and were going to try for a job with him, so I looked him over while the minister was reciting Bible verses, and somehow I couldn’t feel quite happy about his face. But then you know, we are told not to judge one another, and some people have very unfortunate expressions. It just isn’t fair to judge a man by his expression in church, perhaps. But surely they wouldn’t put him in as an elder if there were any question about him. I’ve always supposed our church was very particular about whom they made elders.”

Paige grinned.

“He’s a rich man, Moms. It would mean a whole lot to the finances of the church to have a man like that in a high office.”

“I know,” sighed his mother. “But I’m not sure we should dare judge him.”

“Of course not, Moms. Oh, forget it. And I suppose, of course he’s all right. I guess the trouble was in me.”

“But Son, what was it you saw, or heard, that gave you this uneasiness?”

“Nothing, Moms. It was just that the whole setup seemed so slick and well satisfied with themselves, as if they owned the universe. I guess I was just tired. I’ll get a good sleep, and then things will probably look all right to me. But they were really swell to me, offered me more than I expected. I’m to go down tomorrow for a conference and get my bearings on things. My job begins next week, so I’ll have time to get the right clothes. Now go to bed, Moms dear, and don’t you worry about this. It all comes of this old habit of yours that you have to look right through me as if I were made of glass or cellophane, and analyze my innermost thoughts. You’ll have to get over that now I’m a grown man and have been to war. You’ll get us all mixed up if you don’t. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“I know, Son, I’ll just have to take it out in praying for you.”

“That’s right, Moms, you take it out in praying, but don’t sit up any later tonight to do it. Look what time it is! Let it rest till tomorrow.”

The mother smiled gently.

“Oh, Son, it doesn’t take but a minute to put you and your affairs into the hands of the Lord, and there I can always trust any matter that troubles me.”

She stooped and gently kissed him, and then they parted for the night.

The young man went to his room, made short work of disrobing, and with a sigh of relief he dropped comfortably into his clean, sweet bed. His own home bed, with smooth sheets that smelled of sweet clover and lavender, as his mother’s sheets always did. He drew a breath of thanksgiving for that cleanness and comfort, pushing far from him the memory of other nights not yet so far away, when there were no sheets—or at least not clean ones—and no comfort, relegating with them a hovering memory of disturbing thoughts that had depressed him when he came home. He sank into a deep, dreamless sleep, somehow made possible by that brief talk with his mother.

And the mother was even then softly on her knees beside her bed before her Lord.

“Oh, my Lord,” she was saying, “here is something that I do not know how to deal with. Won’t You take over and manage this? If there is any advice I should give, show me what it should be. If I should keep out of this entirely, then put a guard over my lips. Guide and keep my boy.”

Then she, too, lay down upon her bed and sweetly trusting, slept.

Paige Madison slept late the next morning, after all the excitement of the evening before. He enjoyed the restfulness of being at home again and not having to hurry unduly.

He took great care with his dressing. His best uniform with every button bright and every ribbon in place. In a very few days now he would be done with uniforms and into civilian clothes, but he realized that the uniform counted for something just now, his first day in his new job. It would mean something to his fellow workmen, to his employers, to the officials about the place. It gave him a bit of prestige, timely interest, a certain standing to start out with.

His mother, too, looked proudly at him as he came downstairs, and motioned him to the late breakfast she had prepared for him. How proud she was of him, how glad he was safely at home! She put aside the twinge of fear that crossed her mind as she thought of all the temptations and discouragements that awaited him in this new-old world to which he had returned. She must not fear. She had trusted him to her Lord, and He would guide.

“What’s new, Moms?” Paige asked as he drained the orange juice with relish and put down the glass. “You know, I’ve hardly had time to ask you any questions since I got home, what with all this to-do about hunting a job. Is everything hereabouts the same as ever? No marriages or births or deaths?”

“Yes.” The mother looked thoughtful. “Nettie Hollister got married to a lieutenant stationed in India and went out there with him. It was kind of sad, because her mother had just died and Nettie was sort of alone. And Randa Goss married that wealthy Bert Hickens and got a divorce from him two months later. That was sad, too, because her mother did everything she could to keep her from marrying him. And now she’s come home with the saddest look I ever saw on a girl’s face.”

“Well, she might have known what she was getting into. That Hickens guy was always a low-down bum. And by the way, your old minister passed away, didn’t he? I suppose you’ll miss him a lot.”

“Oh yes,” said the mother with a tender little smile, “but he was ready to go. He really wanted to go after his wife died. And he had suffered a lot. He was sick for the last ten months. But we’ve got a new minister now, and I think his coming made it easier for old Dr. Bowen. This man is the son of an old seminary classmate of Dr. Bowen’s, and when he came it seemed to cheer him up wonderfully, the last few days of his life. It seemed as if his last worry was gone, when he could leave his precious church in such good hands.”

“Well, that’s good. Is he a young man, this new minister?”

“No, not so young,” said the mother. “I should say he is about forty-five or eight. He has a son in the service, not yet returned, and a daughter, a very sweet girl. I think they are going to be a great addition to the community, though of course I haven’t seen much of the daughter. She has just got home from somewhere. But I like the mother very much. I think she is going to be a delightful neighbor and friend. You know, they are living just across on the next corner in that little new stone bungalow. The old manse has been sold, and the church bought this. I think it is going to be much pleasanter for the minister so much nearer the church, and it’s a very pretty, cozy house.”

“Well, so that hideous old manse has passed out of the picture, has it? That’s good. Who bought it?”

“Why I think someone wanted the ground for a filling station, or something. Anyway, they tore it down. I only wish the Bowens could have enjoyed the new manse before they left. But I guess they’ve likely found their heavenly mansion better.”

“Let us hope!” said the young man, with a grin. “I’d hate to think they had anything as run-down looking as that in heaven. Well, now, Moms, I’m off. Do I look okay? If there’s any turning down to be done on this job
I
want to do it. I don’t want anyone to turn me down because I didn’t look nifty enough.”

The mother smiled admiringly.

“You’re all right, Paige, my lad. And I’m praying that all will go well with you.”

Paige smiled half ruefully.

“Thanks, Mother, I’m sure it will then.”

With a cheerful flinging on of his service cap he hurried away, and his mother watched him down to the street, with a prayer in her heart.

As Paige passed the corner, he caught sight of a young girl sweeping the porch of the new stone cottage, and he wondered if she could be the minister’s daughter, or was that a new maid they had hired? She was pretty, anyway, he thought from the brief glimpse he caught of her before she turned and went into the house. She had golden hair, and a blue dress with a white apron. Or was that purely his imagination? But she was probably a young girl they had hired, someone who had grown up since he left town. Silly speculation! What difference did it make anyway? He had seen her so briefly that he probably wouldn’t know her again if he met her face-to-face. Although that hasty glance had told him one thing. She was wearing no makeup, and her face looked young and fresh. Well, probably a hired maid and not even pretty if he saw her close by.

But he wasn’t interested in girls now. He was interested in jobs, and if this job that he had secured last night didn’t turn out to be the right one, he must hunt for another that was definitely the right one, without any question, even if the salary weren’t half so large.

Then he signaled a bus, swung into a seat, and thought no more about it. Except that he hoped he wasn’t going to be too close to that minister’s daughter. It would be awkward if she was tiresome or stupid. His mother had always been so closely associated with the church and all its doings, and it would be entirely natural that he would often be called upon to escort a girl like that to church doings. But he would be careful about that and not get involved even the first time, if he could help it. But of course, with an important job such as he had, he could always have the excuse of being too busy.

At the next stop a paperboy stood offering his wares. Paige bought a paper and absorbed himself in the news, and in just no time at all it seemed, he was downtown at his destination.

As he turned into the big office building, he noticed a handsome car draw up before the entrance. A smartly dressed girl got out. She spoke a word of direction to her chauffeur and turned toward the office building. He gave only a casual glance and strode toward the elevator. He was not interested in girls just now, he told himself again, especially not in a girl who rode in limousines like the one at the curb.

Of the girl he had a closer glimpse as she stepped out of the elevator, just ahead of the one in which he was riding, and he was distinctly aware of the heavy breath of expensive perfume that floated about her and preceded her as she stepped out into the hall. The only clear impression he had of her now was of excessively red lips and a velvety, artificial complexion.

Then the great marble clock that faced the elevator caught his attention, and the girl passed out of his mind. He did not even notice which way she went. It was the hour that Mr. Chalmers had set for his arrival at the office, and with long strides he went down the corridor to the door that bore the magic name “Harris Chalmers.”

He tapped on the door, and in answer to the response from within stepped inside and closed the door behind him, entirely unaware of the clicking heels that followed him down to the door.

The lady barged into the office just after him, noisily, as one who had a right, and addressed the secretary at the desk in the tones some use to address a menial.

“Hi, Jane, is Dad here yet?”

“Yes, Miss Chalmers,” answered the girl coldly. “He just came in, but he gave direction that he is not to be disturbed. He is expecting someone for conference.”

“Oh,
really
? Well that doesn’t mean me. If I want to disturb him I certainly will, no matter how many conferences he has. No, you needn’t announce me. I’m going in without announcement.”

The dignified secretary controlled the angry flush that started in her cheeks and turned her attention to the young man in uniform.

Paige Madison handed her the card of identification that Mr. Chalmers had given him the night before, and a look of instant recognition passed over her face.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” she said quickly. “Will you step right into the next room? You are expected.”

She turned and opened a door just behind her desk, though not the door that bore the name “The President.” But the quick-witted, petted child of fortune knew that this door meant the visitor was very special and had been granted a speedier entrance than other callers might have gained. Quickly, she stepped up beside the young man as he reached the door, and smilingly accosted him.

“Hi, soldier! You don’t mind if I go in along with you, do you?”

Paige looked down at her with courteous haughtiness, took one step back, looked from her to the secretary who was escorting him, and said calmly, “That would be something that is scarcely within my province to grant.” Then he stepped ahead of her into the next room, and the secretary closed the door.

And that was the beginning of Paige Madison’s acquaintance with the daughter of Harris Chalmers, his new employer. It was probably not a diplomatic way to further his own interests, but somehow the young man, for the moment, did not care. If his job depended at all on getting in right with this girl, perhaps it would be just as well not to have it.

As he stood for a moment alone in the room to which he had been sent, he thought he heard the echo of angry voices. Or was it only one angry voice, and another quiet and controlled? That last would probably be the secretary’s voice. Then the door opposite to the one by which he had entered opened, and Harris Chalmers, quiet, self-assured, heartily welcoming, greeted him with friendly hand outstretched.

“I see you’re on time, Lieutenant,” he said cordially. “Come into my inner office and we can get right down to work on the details of which we spoke briefly last night.”

Paige followed his new boss into the luxuriously appointed office beyond, where quiet conservative elegance reigned, and an air of righteousness. He had scarcely sat down when another door on the other side of the room opened sharply and the girl he had left in the outer room breezed in triumphantly, with a grin toward the poor soldier boy that would have thoroughly snubbed any young service man who cared.

“Hi, Dad!” called the girl cheerfully, with a note in her voice that utterly belied the quiet dignity of the room. It flung a challenge to the atmosphere her father had intended to create.

The father turned with an annoyed look and frowned at her.

“Reva!” he said in his harshest voice. “How did you get in here? I thought I gave special instructions to Miss Dalworth that
no one
was to be admitted here until my morning conferences were over.”